Mystery Writer About Writing

Sunday, May 11, 2014

On April 22, 2014, I signed a contract with Skyhorse Publishing, Inc. to publish the second novel in my series featuring Mike Houston and Anne Bouchard. The novel, entitled THE FISHERMAN, follows Anne and Mike as they assist an elderly couple in the search for their missing grand daughter. The investigation leads them into Boston's dark world of prostitution and white slavery.

As in SNIPER, they enlist the assistance of crime lord Jimmy O and his organization. The chase takes them from the remnants of Boston's fames Combat Zone to the rocky coast of Maine, and ultimately into the seemingly endless acres of northern Maine woodlands.

I feel fortunate to be able to work with the same great team at Skyhorse Publishing. I am certain that were it not for the invaluable assistance of my editor, Constance Renfro, (she knew when to back off and let me have my way and when to stand her ground and make me see the light) the book would not have been as good as it turned out. That is my feelings based on the feedback I get from readers. It made me the second most famous person in Stockholm, Maine (population 270), Russell Currier made the U. S. Olympic Biathlon Team and for much of the winter held first place. Now that the 2014 Winter Olympics are history, I'm making a bit of a comeback.

It is a nice feeling knowing that the publication of THE FISHERMAN will remove the fear of being a one book wonder, although it didn't hurt Harper Lee. I'll be letting everyone know the particulars as we go through the editorial and prepublication process. Now that I think of it, blogging on that process may be of interest to some people.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Eleven years ago on May 2, 2003, Daniel Bondeson was found in his New Sweden, Maine farmhouse where he had committed suicide. Bondeson's death alone would have been news in this small community of 650 people, however it was else was found that really shocked the community. Nearby was a suicide note in which Bondeson confessed to putting liquid arsenic in the after service coffee at the Gustaf Adolph Evangelical Lutheran Church. Until the discovery of the note, Bondeson was not even a suspect in the case. On April 27, 2003, there were complaints about the coffee served at the church coffee hour being bitter. No one had a clue that, bu the end of that day, sixteen people would become violently sick and one (Walter Reid Morrill, 78, known locally as Reid) would perish in short time medical personnel at the nearby Cary Medical Center in Caribou, Maine blamed arsenic poisoning.Detectives assigned to the case by the Maine State police believed there was more than one parishioner to blame for the poisonings and were focusing on six to ten members of the fifty-person congregation. The police, including FBI profilers arrived and church members, including the victims' relatives, were fingerprinted. They gave blood samples and filed out police questionnaires that went so far as to come right out ans ask them if they perpetrated the crime. The result of this was that people became suspicious of neighbors and relatives, many of whom they'd known for years. The began asking questions: Who skipped coffee hour? Who attended but did not drink coffee?New Sweden and the surrounding communities (such as Stockholm, Westmanland, and Jemptland) is a shrinking remnant of the Swedish migration of the 1870s. Maine's farmers were leaving the area to settle in the mid-west where the fields were flat and rich and the winters less harsh than that of Aroostook County. There was also a dispute between the state and French Canadian settlers from Canada as to where the northern border was. To secure its claim on the area, a contingent from Maine ventured to Scandinavia and recruited settlers with the lure of free land. The Swedish settlers immediately founded the Gustaf Adolph Evangelical Lutheran Church, named after a 17th century Swedish king.

Daniel Bondeson

In recent years, the closing of Loring Air Force Base hit the local economy hard and the potato market was being dominated by states in the Pacific Northwest. Aroostook County, with focus on the communities that surrounded the base (Caribou, Limestone, Fort Fairfield, and the Swedish Colony) were decimated and there was a migration of the area's youth to places where they could more easily find employment.Daniel Bondeson, a fifty-three year old bachelor, was a modest man who made a living farming, substitute teaching, and nursing. He was a dedicated runner who had competed in several Boston Marathons and an avid cross-country skier. He was well-known and like by many in the community. Even after the discovery of the suicide note many still find it difficult to believe that he would commit such a crime. In fact, many still don't believe he's guilty. One victim, Erich Margeson, was quoted by the Portland Press Herald as saying: "It does make you wonder whether I could have made a difference, to just go up and talk to him and be a better friend to him." Some believe that he may have given the arsenic unwittingly to someone else and when he learned what it had been used for killed him self in remorse. (Arsenic is in no short supply around Aroostook county, especially in liquid form as, in years past, farmers used it to kill the tops and stems of their potato plants before harvesting the crop.) Some think that if he did do it, he may have done it because of the deaths of a brother, a nephew, and his father in recent years.What stands in the face of all these theories was the damning part of the note in which Bondeson states: "I acted alone. I acted alone. One dumb poor
judgement ruins life but I did wrong," read the note, in which the
first "I acted alone" was underlined. The note stated that he did not know that the
chemical he put in the coffee pot before church members gathered
socially after the Aug. 27, 2003, Sunday service was arsenic. "I thought it was something? I had no intent to
hurt this way. Just to upset stomach, like the church goers did me." It is thought that Bondeson had been upset with the church council over a new communion table that he and his brothers and sisters donated to the church in honor of their late mother and father.Based on the information presented in the suicide note, on April 18, 2006, Maine Assistant Attorney General William R. Stokes, Chief of Criminal Division, and Colonel Craig Poulin, Chief of the Maine State Police, held a press conference in which they held that, as stated in his suicide note, Bondeson acted alone and “No
further investigative efforts are planned in connection with this case.”Many local residents to day feel that Danny Bondeson was not the perpetrator of this crime and that if not for the incriminating suicide note the case would have never been solved.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Smuttynose Island

The
Islands of the Shoals lie six miles off the coast of Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
The island group consists of nine islands, five in Maine and four in New
Hampshire, and were named by English explorer Capt. John Smith after sighting
them in 1614. The first recorded landfall of an Englishman was that of explorer
Capt. Christopher Levett, whose 300 fishermen in six ships discovered that the
Isles of Shoals were largely abandoned in 1623.

The
terrifying events outlined by Thaxter and Shreve took place in the early
morning hours of March 6, 1873. The island was inhabited by a single couple,
John Honvet and his wife Maren, who arrived there from Norway in 1868. John was
a commercial fisherman and he would sail his schooner, the Clara Bella, to the fishing grounds, draw his trawl lines, and then
set sail for home in late afternoon. His industriousness earned him respect
from his friends and neighbors on other islands (whose population rarely
surpassed fifty).

Louis
Wagner was working solo, barely eking out a living fishing the waters off the Isles
of Shoals when he met Honvet. For two years John and Maren took Wagner, a dark
muscular Prussian with a thick accent, under their care, seeing that he was
never in need of food or clothing and even went so far as to include him in
John’s prosperous business. During the two plus years they were acquainted it
is said that Wagner and the Hontvets became as close as brothers and sister.

Though
content with their new lives, the Hontvets missed their families in Norway.
Maren cherished her small cottage, but often her only companion during John’s
absences while fishing was her small dog, Ringe. In May 1871, Maren’s sister,
Karen Christensen, arrived from Norway and within a few weeks obtained a
position as a live-in maid with a family on nearby Appledore Island (the
largest of the Isle of The Shoals islands).

By
June of 1872, John’s business had prospered to the point where he was able to
hire Wagner, giving him a room within his home. However, in October of that
year John found himself with more help than he needed. His brother, Matthew
arrived from Norway with Maren’s brother, Ivan Christensen and his wife Anethe.
All five family members lived together in the Hontven cottage and Ivan and
Matthew went to work with John.

Wagner
stayed on for five weeks after Ivan, Matthew, and Anethe arrived and then
booked passage as a hand on the Addison
Gilbert, a fishing schooner, in November. His luck took a turn for the
worse. The Addison Gilbert was
wrecked and he found himself reduced to working along the docks in Portsmouth,
New Hampshire. He barely made enough money to pay his board. By March of 1873
he was destitute, his shoes and clothes were worn and tattered, and he was
behind in his rent.

John,
Ivan, and Matthew had set sail early on the morning of March 5, 1873. They
placed their trawl lines, intending to sell the catch in Portsmouth and buy
bait there, they met a neighbor and asked him to stop by Smuttynose and inform
the women that due to a change in the wind direction they would be sailing
directly to the mainland.

The
women, Maren, Anethe, and Karen (she had left her position on Appledore and
taken one as a seamstress in Boston) who was visiting, got the word in the late
afternoon.

When
the Clara Bella docked in Portsmouth
in early evening, Louis Wagner was on hand to help tie the vessel down. He
inquired if John and his crew would be returning to Smuttynose that evening. He
learned that it depended upon whether or not the bait they wanted to buy was
delivered on time. If it was they would return, if not they would stay in port
and return home in the morning.

Wagner
was last seen in Portsmouth at 7:30 that evening. He learned that the bait had
not arrived and decided to burglarize the Hontvet’s home. He stole a dory and
rowed into the harbor and out to sea. The feat of rowing twelve miles to the Isles
of Shoals was difficult, but not impossible and Wagner was a skilled oarsman,
driven by desperation.

The
three woman had waited for the men and by 10 PM decided not to do so any
longer. They changed into their night clothes and made a bed for Karen in the
kitchen, where it was warmer. Maren and Anethe retired to an adjoining bedroom.

Rather
than go ashore in the cove where John kept the Clara Bella, Wagner rowed to the far side of the island and
disembarked on the rocky shore. He observed the cottage for several hours after
the inside lights had gone out. Confident that the women were asleep he made
his move. He quickly found the kitchen door unlocked and stepped inside. He
jammed a piece of wood into the latch of the bedroom door. His movement aroused
the dog and it barked, waking Karen. She asked, “John, is that you?”

Maren
then awoke and called to her sister, “Karen? Is something wrong?”

“John
scared me!” With that Wagner reached for a chair and struck a incapacitating
blow. Karen screamed as he continued his assault.

Karen
struggled to her feet and tugged at the bedroom door. Battered and bleeding,
she freed the latch and fell at Maren’s feet. Wagner rushed again, now swinging
at and hitting both women. Maren managed to pull Karen out of his reach and closed
and barricaded the door.

Anethe
watched the attack from a corner of the room. Maren implored her to run and
hide. Anethe climbed out the bedroom window and stood barefoot in the snow,
frozen with fright.

Wagner
gave up his assault on the locked door and left the house. In the light of the
quarter moon, Maren could see who their attack was. He closed with Anethe and
grabbed an axe from its place on the woodpile and with a single motion drove
the blade into Anethe’s head. Her lifeless body fell as he continued to strike
her. During this horrific attack, Maren was so close that she could have
reached through the window and touched him.

Realizing
that she could do nothing to help Anethe, Maren turned her attention to saving
her sister and herself. She begged Karen to run. Karen, however, was on the
verge of fainting and was unable to do anything. By this time Wagner had
returned to the house with the axe. Believing both she and her sister would be
killed if she remained, Maren wrapped herself in a heavy skirt and, when she
heard Wagner return to the house, climbed through the window and ran. She
headed for the cove hoping to find Wagner’s boat there. When she did not see
it, she ran along the shore to the far side of the island. As she passed the
cottage she heard Karen shout in agony. She crawled between two rocks near the
water’s edge where the surf obliterated all other sound.

Karen
tried to escape through the window but was so weak that it was too much. Wagner
finally broke into the room and swung the axe, missing her and hitting the
sill, which broke the axe handle. He then twisted a handkerchief around her
neck and strangled her until she was dead.

Bloody
footprints showed his search for Maren and where he dragged Anethe by her feet
into the kitchen. He was exhausted and brewed a pot of tea, leaving blood on
the handle, and ate food he had brought using a plate, knife and fork from the
Hontvet’s kitchen. He ransacked the house, finding only fifteen dollars and
departed, leaving Anethe’s body on the floor beside a clock he had knocked off
the mantle—its hands were stopped at seven minutes past one.

It
was after eight in the morning when Maren got the attention of the children of
Jorge Ingerbredsen, who were playing beside their home on Appledore Island.
Jorge rowed across the quarter mile of sea to rescue her. He returned her to
his home and with several other men they returned to Smuttynose.

Finding
no one on Smuttynose, the men returned home and searched there. A few hours
later the Clara Bella was sighted on
the horizon and they signaled her. Matthew and Ivan rowed a skiff to Appledore
and John sailed the schooner to her moor on Smuttynose. When the men found
Maren at the Ingerbredsen house and heard the horrific tale they rushed to
Smuttynose, arriving the same time as John. They found the bodies and searched
the full contents of their destroyed home, before sailing the schooner to
Appledore. That afternoon, John and others carried Maren’s tale of terror to
the authorities in Portsmouth.

The
stolen dory was found in Newcastle, where two men who knew Wagner reported they
had seen him about six o’clock on the morning of March 7, near a place called
the Devil’s Den. Wagner had returned
to his boarding house, changed some of his clothes and took a 9 AM train to
Boston. Wagner was arrested that evening at a boarding house where he had
stopped to see some women that he knew. He offered no resistance.

The
following day he was transferred from Boston (where a jeering crowd
followed—the crime had been widely reported throughout the east coast) to
Portsmouth (where a crowd of 10,000 narrowly missed tearing him apart).

Smuttynose
falls under the jurisdiction of Maine so Wagner had to be tried there. Three
days after arriving in Portsmouth, he was moved from the jail to the train
where a lynch mob of over 200 fishermen were waiting. The police escort drew
their revolvers and a company of bayonet-wielding Marines were called from the
Navy base, but the mob was not easily subdued. The escort was showered with
stones and bricks.

Louis
Wagner’s trial began in Alfred, Maine on June 9, 1873. It took nine days of
testimony and 55 minutes of deliberation for the jury to find him guilty as
charged. He broke out of jail within a week, but was recaptured in New
Hampshire. On June 25, 1875, 27 months after the crime, Wagner was led into the
yard of the state prison in Thomaston, Maine, and hanged. Wagner maintained his
innocence to the very end.

Maren
and John Hontvet were never to live in the Isles of Shoals again. They moved to
Portsmouth, where John continued working as a fisherman. There are two small
houses on the island. One of them, the Samuel Haley house, was once believed to
be the oldest structure in the state of Maine. Smuttynose is not populated
today.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

In a previous blog, I wrote about my 5th cousin, two times removed, Lizzie Borden. Lizzie's case has mystified people for over one hundred years and there are still questions about her guilt or innocence. I wrote an article on Lizzie for the New England Chapter of the MWA web site and another article was written by Sandra Lee for the same web site. Sandra, who graciously granted me permission to reprint her article here, takes an interesting look at how the use (or misuse) of crime scene evidence may have impacted The Trial of Lizzie Borden... By the way, for those of you who may have read my previous post on Lizzie, I made a mistake...she died in 1927, not 1947.

A Nineteenth Century Scene of a
Crime – A Look Back in Time

by Sandra Lee

Crime scene evidence is that which
serves to provide clues about the series of events surrounding the commission
of a crime. While evidence recovered at crime scenes varies in nature, amounts
and probative value, it is all essential to the practice of solving the
mysteries at hand. Time has no bearing on the vitality of crime scene evidence,
and it is that vitality which commands the use of great care during evidence
identification, documentation, collection, analysis and preservation.

During the nineteenth century these
functions were all performed locally, and crime scene evidence consisted of
whatever the responding authorities decided it should.

Great advancements in sciences and
technology during this era granted much efficiency to the processing of crime
scenes and even expanded the scope of acceptable forms of evidence. While
investigators and scientists in some states fully embraced these innovations,
such as the new and evolving arts of fingerprinting and ABO blood-typing,
others presented barriers of prejudice and bias, and continued practicing with
methods “tried and true”.

Investigators and scientists
throughout the Commonwealth of Massachusetts fell into the latter category, due
in part to the state’s conservative nature. Other contributing factors toward
the resistance of these individuals to be forward-thinking, open-minded and
highly-motivated were found on local levels and included low-paying salaries
and deficiencies in education and training.

All things considered, one might
best define the methods of identifying and collecting crime scene evidence in
Massachusetts cities and towns during the nineteenth century as primitive. The
1892 gruesome crime scene at the Borden home in Fall River might best exemplify
how the application of aged practices might generate unfavorable results.

In the Borden case a skeleton crew
of underpaid, poorly-skilled sleuths failed to immediately secure the scene and
a head-to-toe search of the premises wasn’t conducted for days to follow. This
ineptitude left much room for the contamination, destruction and/or removal of
any evidence not yet collected.

Body temperatures, levels of food
digestion and stages of blood drying and coagulation were used to determine the
times of death of the victims. This data was gathered with the use of nothing
more than human hands and the findings were applied to an ancient suggested set
of standards. Clearly, a clinical thermometer would have provided more accurate
readings of the body temperatures while the knowledge of, or willingness to
recognize new literature available at the time would have altered other
findings. The latest studies showed that each of these postmortem events would
occur on different levels depending upon human individuality and upon
circumstances. Also based on the results of these studies were newly introduced
numbers proven to be the standard.

Performances in the lab at a local
medical school demonstrated an even broader scope of deficiency in crime scene
investigating. Among the evidence ultimately collected were the stomachs of the
victims and a hatchet. The stomach linings were searched for scar tissue caused
by poisoning because the victims were allegedly ill prior to the murders. Because
the hatchet was believed to have caused the fractures in the victims’ skulls,
it was studied for the presence of blood. The single instrument used to perform
these searches, a magnifying glass, detected no scar tissue, nor did it
determine whether a substance found on the hatchet was rust or blood. Some
innovative technological and scientific alternatives might have provided more
certainty about the evidentiary findings. The spectroscope would have offered
significantly more magnification while the introduction of certain metals and
minerals to the stomach contents may have detected the presence of poison.
Similarly, the simple act of infusing water or fire with the matter on the
hatchet would have proven the nature of the substance.

The discounted evidence in the
Borden case arguably contained the most probative value. It consisted of the
prime suspect, Lizzie’s own damning words. Spoken to a rookie investigator who
failed to inform Lizzie of her rights before tuning in, the evidence was deemed
inadmissible by the court based on constitutional grounds. Had a more seasoned,
forward-thinking investigator interviewed Lizzie, she might have been informed
of her rights.

Additionally, the court excluded a
local druggist’s statement that Lizzie attempted to buy poison in his store on
the day before the murders occurred. Lizzie’s counsel argued that the idea of
poisoning was unrelated to the nature of the crimes actually committed. Had the
scientist at the lab possessed the knowledge of and willingness to rely upon
modern techniques, the druggist’s statement may have been utilized, and
Lizzie’s intentions revealed.

Lizzie Borden was acquitted of the
murders of her father and stepmother in June of 1893 after just over an hour of
deliberation by a twelve-man jury.

Lizzie was exonerated of the crimes
based on the evidence both presented and not presented at trial. All evidence
in this case was a product of contemporary practices which consisted of widely
varying and inconsistent crime scene investigation methods. Many believe a lack
of application of common standards based on the best of accepted practices at
the time in the gathering and processing of crime scene evidence may have
contributed to a guilty person getting away with murder.

Monday, February 3, 2014

As of tomorrow, February 4, 2014, my novel, SNIPER, will be available at most book retailers and online. It's hard to express how much this means to me, it is my first publication in a book format (I have previously published short fiction and one early novel in eBook format). I started the novel in the late fall of 2002 and got side tracked on several other projects placing it on a back burner (forgive the cliché!). But there were some people without whom this day would not have happened:

First and foremost was my late wife, Connie. She supported me through those early years when I thought I knew how to write. I resisted some of her comments early on, but that's usually the first symptom of "I know what I'm doing-itis". I've always said that the difference between being intelligent and being ignorant, is intelligent people know what they don't know--ignorant people don't have a clue and don't care enough to see the light! I would bring my latest chapter or short story to Connie, wanting praise, instead I got her honest opinion. She would say something along the line of: "There's too much profanity." I of course, being ignorant, only heard the praise. I was like Mark Twain, who once said (don't take this as being an accurate quote, but the gist of the quote is accurate): "When I was 17, I didn't think my father knew anything; when I was 27, I was astounded by how much the old man had learned..." As I progressed as a writer, Connie just got smarter and smarter.

Second on this list of Geniuses, was Paula Munier, my friend and now my agent. Paula and I met in the summer of 2002 at a meeting of the New England Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. Later that year, she created the first writer group I had ever been a part of. I took the first chapter of one of the novels I was working on to that first meeting, expecting to hear how wonderful it was. That evening I met Skye Alexander and Susan Oleskiew, both published authors and editors (did I mention that Paula was also a professional editor?) They listened to my wonderful work (by now I assume you know where I'm going with this...) and then politely and I may add, professionally, ripped it apart! I left that first meeting limping from the chewing I'd been subjected to, swearing that I would never return. (They too assumed they would never see nor hear of me again). I got home and bent the ear of my primary support person. Connie smiled and said, "Maybe they're right." I was shocked, how could she say such a thing...my bride of 32 years nailed me with, "You think you take criticism well, but you don't. These women have all been published and are to a greater degree than you, succeeded at doing what you want to do. If you don't want to listen to their opinions or take their advice, don't. I mean, look at how successful you've been doing it your way." I limped down to my office feeling as if the little bit of my ego that the writer group had left me had just been taken by my wife. I dropped what was left of my fanny into the chair and took every bit of feedback they'd given me and rewrote the chapter. When I was done, I read it aloud and half-way through paused to say: "Hey...this is good!" I tell this story to every new or aspiring writer I meet. Yet every once in a while when Paula does an edit (even though she's my agent she is still an editor) and tells me to rewrite something or to cut something, I get my hackles up. Nevertheless, I do it...because that's how I got a book publishing contract.

In 2006 cancer took my beloved Connie and two years later I lost my full-time job to the most recent recession. I still mourn losing Connie, but not the job. I looked at my situation and realized that I could no longer afford to live in southern New Hampshire. I relocated to Maine...far northern Maine. A five minute drive past my house and you reach the end of civilization as we know it! Now I have time to write full time. The only impediment is me...I can put off procrastination! So, I did what I knew I had to do, I sought out and found a new writer group. The members may not have the resumes similar to those of my first group, but they still make me sit down and write and they still tell me what I need to hear; not what I want to hear.

Connie is gone now and I have a new first reader, my domestic partner Jane. She's not as critical as Connie and the others, but thank God she's getting there!

So, in closing...thanks to Connie, Paula, Skye, Susan, the Breathe writer group and Jane. And all of you who buy my book and enjoy it.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

The poem, however inaccurate (she was
found not guilty, only nineteen blows were counted, the nature of the murder
weapon—thought to be a hatchet; not an axe—and the fact that Abby Borden was
her step-mother) has kept Lizzie Borden (my 5th cousin, twice
removed) a part of Americana since the murders of her father and her
step-mother, Abby Durfee Gray Borden, on August 4, 1892 in Fall River,
Massachusetts. But few know little more than the poem. So who was Lizzie Borden
and why she was considered the prime suspect in a crime for which she was found
not guilty on June 20, 1893.

Lizzie Andrew Borden (1860 – 1927) was
the youngest of three daughters of Andrew Jackson Borden and Sarah Anthony
Morse. Her mother died shortly after Lizzie’s birth and Andrew married Abby
Durfee Gray, who took over the task of raising his two daughters (Lizzie had an
older sister Emma Lenora Borden and there was a middle sister who died at the
age of two) and running the household. The Bordens were solid upper-middle
class and nowhere near the richest family in Fall River as is generally
thought. Lizzie grew up in an atmosphere of idle, not gentile living. She was
never to hold a job, although she did volunteer work for church missions,
temperance unions and various charities.

Andrew Borden was known to be stingy
with a Scrooge-like attitude toward his customers, tenants, and those who
borrowed money from him. During her trial, the prosecution attempted to depict
Lizzie as a person who would not only kill for an inheritance, but would do so
the avenge years of deprivation (both material and psychological) she had endured
in her father’s household. There was evidence of friction between the sisters
and their father over the way he catered to Abby’s relatives (or so the girls
believed). It was during this time that Lizzie stopped calling Abby mother and
began calling her “Mrs. Borden”.

Lizzie was considered a suspect in the
killings by a number of police officers from the moment they were notified. At
the time of the killings only Lizzie, Bridget Sullivan (the Borden’s domestic
servant) and the victims were home. It has been thought that Lizzie murdered
her step-mother while Bridget was outside the house washing windows. She later
told her father that Abby had received a note about a sick friend and she was
out of the house. She then encouraged her father to take a nap. Bridget,
finished with her chores, went to her room to take a nap. Lizzie said that she
then went out to the barn on an errand. According to Lizzie, she returned to
the house after hearing a groan, a scraping noise or a call of distress (she
related several contradictory stories to the police). Eventually she settled on
the story that she went to check on her father and found him slain, his head
mutilated.

On August 11th after
appearing before an inquest she was arrested for the murders. In December a Grand
Jury handed down three indictments against Lizzie Borden: one for the murder of
her father, one for the murder of her step-mother, and one for the murder of
both. She was removed to a Taunton jail where she remained until her trial in
June 1893.

A jury of twelve, mostly Republican men,
average age fifty-three, found her not guilty on all counts.

At first public opinion about the
verdict was favorable—possibly because it was generally believed that Lizzie
would leave Fall River and live someplace where she was less known. She did
not, she returned to her home and remained in the city. The absence of closure
about the murders caused Lizzie’s and Emma’s position in society to fall. The
sisters had become wealthy women because Abby died before Andrew, the
step-mother’s family was deprived of her estate and, as a legal matter, it fell
into the sisters’s possession. The final blow to her status came when Lizzie
(who had a history of stealing) was accused of shoplifting two paintings from a
Providence, Rhode Island company. A warrant was never served and the matter was
settled privately and Lizzie’s reputation was diminished and she became more
isolated.

In 1905, Emma moved out with no public
explanation. There is speculation that Emma learned something about the 1892
murders. The sisters never saw nor spoke with each other again.

Lizzie Andrew Borden spent the last
twenty-two years of her life an aging spinster surrounded by faithful servants
who have never broken their silence. She was quite generous with their salaries
and even purchased a house as a residence for some of them.

Lizzie died on June 1, 1927, after
suffering complications after a gall bladder operation. Emma died nine days
later in Newmarket, New Hampshire. Neither had begotten children so the Andrew
Borden branch of the family (the Borden family includes such well-know people
as Sir Winston Churchill and Marilyn Monroe) came to an end.

Lizzie’s infamous name has endured and
become iconic, spawning numerous books and at least one movie, starring
Elizabeth Montgomery as Lizzie. Whether or not she committed the murders the unanswered questions continue to fascinate mystery lovers throughout the
world.

In a subsequent blog, I'll look closely at Lizzie's trial and why it is still considered to be of great importance.

About Me

Vaughn C. Hardacker is a writer. He has completed five novels and numerous short stories. He is a member of the New England Chapter of the Mystery Writers of America and has published short stories in three anthologies: Mouth Full of Bullets; Best of Year One, My Teacher Is My Hero, and Deadfall, Level Best Books' sixth annual anthology of New England crime and mystery stories.

He is a veteran of the U. S. Marines and served in Vietnam. He holds degrees from Northern Maine Technical College, the University of Maine and Southern New Hampshire University. He lives in Maine.